And the Greatest of These
by zealousfreak27
Summary: Or, four times Sherlock experienced a form of love, and one time he felt all at once. Stream-of-consciousness, one-shot. Light slash.


**AN/ Stream-of-consciousness is harder than you would believe.**

**Timeline for this one is not important. It takes place in ether land.**

* * *

_1. Philia: friendship, loyalty, equality_

It's dark and cold and there's graffiti on the wall and I can tell from the litter and the general lack of style that it was done by a pre-teen boy and it's going to rain but none of this matters because the criminal we were chasing is pointing a gun at John.

I have finally worked out the motive (jealousy) for the murder of this man's brother but it's not relevant, the case isn't relevant. How can the case not be relevant? John John John is in danger, John could die, it's not okay, there's nothing I can do. People die when they are killed - yes excellent deduction, my brain is broken, but there would be no more John, with tea and jumpers and kindness. I can't concentrate -

Light, surrounding, a voice, "Drop your weapon!" Yes, of course, John called Lestrade, smart John, careful John. Criminal drops weapon, has no experience and is desperate and shaking, he probably would have missed John anyway. John!

Run over. Hands on his body, checking, "Are you alright?" Of course he's alright. He wasn't shot, not even in shock, strong, brave.

"It's okay. Sherlock, I'm fine, really." He smiles, trying to reassure, seems more worried about me, the stupid fool.

Must take John home. Fix tea, yes. John must stay.

No, I don't want to give a statement! Tell Lestrade John is in shock (he isn't). He says he'll send John ahead. Don't want to be apart, but okay. Must give evidence against criminal; man dared to put John in danger. John, friend.

* * *

_2. Storge: familial, comfort, belonging_

Christmas: not fun since childhood. Thoughts of Mycroft; bad memories, dull, delete. John is one of those people who insists on starting to celebrate in September. Exaggeration, demonstrative.

Tree takes up too much space in living room. John says it's not very big, not even average. John is irritating.

Hm. Ridiculous tradition. All of this, pointless. Am bored.

Get out violin. Rosin on bow. Play.

John says that's not even playing; it's torture. What does John know about the delicate workings of music? Continue to play.

Mrs Hudson brings food. Good cook. Play her favorite song.

She pats my shoulder. "My lovely boy. So talented." Warm glow in chest. Will investigate later.

John is smiling at my playing. Category: fond. Like this smile. Note: nice playing and/or affection passed between myself and Mrs Hudson produces fond-John-smile.

Put away violin. Stretch. Part of Christmas tradtion that is not dull: presents. Have presents for both of them.

Dinner is good. Tell Mrs Hudson so. Do not thank; she knows I mean it. She smiles.

Back to room. Under tree there are presents. As per request, have not figured out what they are.

I want to go first. I get what I want. Have got Mrs Hudson a warm blanket; her old patterned one has patches now. John - nice mug to replace the one I shattered. Not enough, not enough. Should have gotten more, maybe.

Smiles in return; present in itself. John smile, category: ? Must make new category...

Mrs Hudson has got me a magnifying glass. Already have several; definitely Not Good to say. Is very nice glass. Thank her, says John-voice in my head. His wish is my command.

There have been many smiles tonight.

John gives me wrapped package. Shake it, listen. Nothing shifts. John-laugh, category: 50% amused, 50% exasperated. "Open it, you git," he says.

Unwrap. Chemistry equipment. All new. Things I do not have or replacement of old ones. Thoughtful. Expensive. John thought about this. Spent time, money.

Sprawled on note in package: _Experiment away!_

Smile widely. Wonder if John categorizes my smiles.

Am happy, content. Christmas: enjoyable with friends.

* * *

_3. Eros: passionate, physical_

At crime scene. Ignore Sally and Anderson. Not worth my time today. Interesting, exciting case!

Study body. Daycare worker. Married happily. Was planning to have children. What motive?

On her belt, there is a loop. Extra one. For holding camera. She was running, then caught, shoved against wall.

Ask John to take a look. Time of death: over twenty four hours. Around five yesterday, probably. What did she see?

Check her pockets. Worked at Sunnydale Daycare, then.

Tell Lestrade my deductions. Rush in my ears. Feel alive.

John is staring again. His mouth is open. Thin lips. Must be nice to kiss - delete.

"Brilliant," he says. Sounds breathless. Truthful. Hate it when people say he's flattering me. He wouldn't, and he's so honest. Besides, I am brilliant. He's a little brilliant, for seeing it.

Am staring back now. He is blonde. I know this, obviously, but now he is _blonde_. Attractively so.

Attractive. John is attractive? Objectively, I knew this. Not so objective now.

Eyes are very blue. Could get lost in that blue. Nonsense; this is ridiculous romanticness. Romantic? Am I being romantic? Would John like me to be romantic? I would be for him.

Quickly turn back to body. Push thoughts, feelings aside. Irrelevant.

* * *

_4. Agape: unconditional, unselfish, true_

Can hear screaming. Have just fell asleep; first time in awhile. First feel annoyed, then worried when wits come about. Why is there screaming?

Screaming is John. Not Good at all.

Nightmare. It has been a long while. Last case prompted it, no doubt. Child, dismembered. Even I had been unsettled (didn't let anyone see).

Upstairs. Open door. Thrashing on bed, crying, screaming. Oh dear.

Never used to do anything. Knew him less then. Didn't think he'd appreciate. He probably won't. But I can't not do anything. (Double negative; am tired).

Make way over to him. Cannot help but be fascinated. However, must act.

Touch his good shoulder. Shake him. Whisper, "John, John, wake up."

Eyes (blue, blue eyes) snap open, tears blurring. Seconds of disorientation. Sees me. Shame (ridiculous), fear.

"Sherlock." Tone: grateful, embarrassed. Silly man.

Unsure on how to proceed. Am frozen, staring at him.

He wipes his eyes, sits up. Increasingly awkward on my end.

Arms are around my neck. Oh, this is what they call "hugging." It is new. I store away the feeling of John's hands, his still shivering form against mine. Will categorize later.

Am being arranged next to John. Pleasant, surprisingly so. Warm, comforting, John.

Have taken care of my John. Sleep now.

* * *

_1. All at once_

John's lips are warm. Must make new category: John's kisses. This is the first; there will be more, if I have any say.

He pulls back. Blue eyes wide. Expression catergory: unsure. He is stupid.

Still in restaurant. Dismiss sounds and surroundings. Concentrate on John.

Reciprocation is suddenly the most lovely word in the English language. See look in John's eyes, see new-found feelings, see my feelings mirrored. I feel safe in those feelings.

Lean in to kiss him again.

* * *

**AN/ I really did try to make the thoughts sound natural. The first one was haphazard and lengthy because of adrenaline and worry, while the rest were more clipped. Hope you enjoyed!**

**Please review!**


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